Red Wedding
by abeautifulmessofcontradictions
Summary: It's Lizzie's wedding day, but everything is not as it seems...
Lizzie stared at her reflexion with apprehension, her hands fluttering nervously to smooth over her burgeoning belly. The wedding dress had been his idea, along with the church, the minister, and the guest list. She thought the whole ceremony was a farce; no one thought this marriage was a good idea. It hadn't mattered to anyone else that this was what _she_ wanted, that this was _her_ choice. If she had had her way, they would have been married yesterday at city hall, on their way out of the city to anywhere else for their honeymoon.

She dragged a brush through her newly shortened hair one last time, carefully arranging the white floral headband compulsively. Her hands trembled with nerves as she swept another layer of gloss over her lips. He wouldn't care what shade her lipstick was, she knew; he was just overcome that she had finally said yes. She gave her hair one last pat before heaving her eight-months pregnant body from the dressing table.

She crossed to the floor-length mirror nearby and surveyed the results of his choice. The lacy bodice was snug over her robust bosom and she eyed herself critically with a small smile; her body had expanded in every way to accommodate their child. The satin fabric brushed softly against her fingertips where the skirt flowed away from her body in a subtle A-line. She tugged at the three-quarter length sleeves as she gave a little turn to gaze at her shoes. It seemed the only way she could even _see_ her feet lately was with the aide of a mirror. She had wanted to wear something with more of a heel, but after experiencing unrelenting swollen ankles, she was grateful for the tasteful white kitten heels he had talked her into.

She had put her foot down firmly on the issue of wearing a veil. She was no blushing virgin bride and she would not go to him with her eyes shielded from the reality of their situation. This was to be a second marriage for both of them and she planned to hold them both to the lessons they had each learned from their first experiences. She gave herself a self-satisfied smile and folded her hands over her bump.

She heard the door open behind her and she turned, expecting to see Aram. After everything, at least he had remained by her side, supportive, offering to walk her down the aisle when she had told him she intended to go through with the wedding. Instead, she saw the last person she had anticipated.

"Lizzie." Her name burned like fire on his tongue. He hadn't wanted to be here, had known he should stay away, but something forced him to see her one more time, to plead with her not to go through with it.

"You shouldn't be here." She stepped closer to the chair, almost as if it were a shield between them. "If he knew you were here…"

He snorted derisively. "He poses no threat to me. But you...well, that's a different story." He took a step towards her, his hand gesturing plainly to her belly. "He's trying to bind you to him and you won't be able to walk away this time."

"I know what I'm doing." She lifted her chin confidently. "This is _his_ child."

He stepped towards her again, plaintive desperation raw on his face. "It could be _our_ child. If only you would give us a chance. We could be a family."

She shook her head; she was sure this was what she wanted. "You had your chance. You had so many chances."

"You know that's not true." His pleas became more frantic. "I never really had you; he was always there, getting in the way. Even when you were on the run, and after, when I thought...for a moment...that maybe there was a chance that you felt the same way…" He looked away from her, his jaw clenching as he worked to keep the tears from his voice.

She watched him carefully, surprised by the unfettered emotion in his tone. She felt the guilt tug at her chest. He deserved better than this, deserved more from her after everything they had been through together.

He sniffed once and brought his attention back to her face. "Let's just be honest with each other now. Can you at least do me that courtesy?"

She swallowed and nodded once, twice. "I'm sorry," she spoke softly, one hand extending towards him, an offering of peace.

He reached out and grasped her hand, his palm rough against her soft skin.

"After all this time...I really thought we'd have a chance. A _real_ chance."

She pulled her hand gently from his, stepping closer. "We were never meant to have that." She gestured between them. "We wouldn't be good for each other. There are just too many secrets between us." She paused a moment, leaving so many words unsaid. He had asked for honesty; she could give him that at least. "I know...you said you'd do anything for me. What if the thing I needed...was for you to walk away?"

He raised tear-filled eyes to her face. "I don't know if I can do that."

"It's what I want. I don't want you to stay here and hurt."

"You don't understand...He's a monster!" He exploded, the force of his words driving her away from him as if he had lunged at her physically.

"No. You don't know who he is, who he _really_ is." Her voice remained calm as she tried to reassure him.

"He's not-"

"He is the only one I'll ever want; I was made to be his." She tried to explain, in kind words that she thought he would understand, the depth of emotion that ran between them. "He's the father of my baby, and even if he weren't, he's the one I'd want to be."

"You can't give him control of your life again!"

She shook her head, her patience with his arguments wearing thin.

"Lizzie, please-"

"No! Just go!" She advanced on him, her anger spilling over in her tone. "Please," she added more softly.

His hands clenched at his sides as he waged an internal battle of wills. Suddenly, his face cleared, stormclouds chased away by something more poignant: regret.

Slowly, he stepped into her, one hand reaching out to stroke the length of her cheek tenderly. His eyes drifted shut as he closed the distance between their bodies, his lips pressing gently to the corner of her mouth.

She stood still, allowing herself to feel his pain over her choice for the first time. She let him kiss her, allowing him his good-bye.

He rested his forehead against hers. "I will never stop loving you, Lizzie."

And without another word, he was gone. She watched his retreating back, shocked into stillness by the knowledge that he was truly gone from her life.

She took a shallow breath and pressed her fingers to her mouth. She allowed herself a moment to mourn what had been, what could have been. The tiny life inside her landed a hard kick to the right side of her belly and she laughed, brought out of her melancholy instantly. She pressed a hand to her stomach and thought of the man waiting for her in the chapel. A brilliant smile flooded her features; he was going to be an amazing husband, a wonderful father. She wanted this, wanted him. She had never been so sure of anything.

The next time the door opened, it was Aram who stepped through, holding an exquisite bouquet of ivory roses for her. "He's waiting."

"I'm ready." She took the flowers from him and nestled her other hand firmly into the crook of his arm.

"Liz," Aram's eyes searched hers questioningly. "Are you sure this is what you want? I'll drive the getaway car, no questions asked."

She smiled at him, a laugh bubbling past her lips; she was so grateful for his friendship. "No, Aram, I'm good. Really, I promise."

He stared at her a moment longer. "You look radiant."

She laughed again. "Did he tell you to say that? It sounds like something he would say."

"Maybe," he confessed, ducking his head. "But it's true."

"Oh, Aram." She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes.

"No, no! None of that!" He cried desperately, searching his pockets for a tiny pack of tissues and dabbing gently at her eyes with one.

She blew out a breath when he was finished and attempted a lighten the mood to keep from ruining her mascara. "Let's get this show on the road before this little one decides to make an appearance early and we never get the vows out."

Aram tucked her hand back into the curve of his elbow and led her into the main chapel.

The lone violinist struck the opening chords of Pachelbel's Canon as they rounded the last pew and began their march down the aisle.

Lizzie's face was a mask of calm, but her heart pounded inside her chest like drum in anticipation. She swallowed reflexively, anxious to see his face. A flurry of excited butterflies swirled impatiently beneath her ribcage. There was no hesitancy to her step. She had never been more sure.

All the moments they'd had together spun before her memory, a tapestry of their lives, a prelude to what their life would be… His skin beneath her fingers, his blood on her hands, her name whispered in her ear, his hand on the small of her back, his lips pressed to her forehead, her head on his shoulder...a thousand moments, timed to the cadence of her steps. Until they brought her to his side once more, where she belonged, where she would always be.

He turned his head, finally, to take in her loveliness, the glow of her skin, the roundness to her body that was all his fault. He murmured her name, low and gravelly and thick with the emotion in his voice, and reached out a hand to take hers.

She smiled up at him, promise shining in her eyes and his name on her lips at last.

"Red."


End file.
